


instead of your laughter all I can hear are the gunshots ringing in my ears

by tsookki



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, but then something happened, i insist that its not sad, it started off as crack, keith is too OP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 23:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsookki/pseuds/tsookki
Summary: “No, he didn’t specifically ask for you,” Shiro answered him from behind the mountain of paper. “Or rather, he specifically didn’t want you.”A vein popped on the side of Keith’s face. “What the fuck do you mean.”“Well,” Shiro mumbled, too focused on his paperwork, “he said he didn’t want to see your face.”That one time I got hooked into Mafia AU or in which Keith is a professional badass and Lance is probably the youngest mafia boss around.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really write during school weeks (I only update during holidays), so this is kind of an apology for not updating my other fics (which I can't even remember the name of) before the holidays roll around and I try to update. Okay, so basically, this was just a self-indulgent paragraph of klance mafia au but then shit hit the fan, I guess. Title credits to my friend because the only thing I could come up with was '50 shades of Keith in denial' and all Italian in the this fic was provided by google translate.

i. 

 

Keith did not like where this was heading. What fun? What high salary? What exciting job? He slammed his hand on the table and stood up, absolutely seething. “No!”

 

“Yes!” Shiro shouted back and fired twice at him.

 

“No means fucking no!” Keith dodged to the left and shot once in the general direction of his sparring partner. The paintball hit Shiro’s left shoulder with a loud splat. “I win.” He smirked and laid down his firearms, “I’m not taking the job.”

 

“Tell that to Allura,” Shiro replied, glaring at the ugly glob of green paint splattered on his black suit with enough menace to scare a grown man shitless. Like that would solve anything, though, Keith thought. 

 

“You go tell Allura that.” He shrugged off the suit jacket and wiped the sweat off his forehead. 

 

Shiro groaned and dragged a hand down his face, “she would kill me.” 

 

“So will I if you keep bothering me,” Keith promised with a sigh.

 

ii. 

 

“You should take the job,” Pidge said. 

 

“Huh?” Keith growled and jammed his finger at his game console. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Shit,” Pidge cursed as Keith almost races past her, “I know you know what I’m talking about.”

 

“I really don’t,” Keith replied, eyes focused on the screen. 

 

“Accept the job if I win,” Pidge suggested and leaned her entire body to the right to avoid Keith’s elbow. 

 

“Not,” Keith bit down on his bottom lip as he surged forward, “ _happening._ ” He drove past the finish line and cheered as Pidge whined. 

 

“Who bets with Mario Kart, anyways,” Pidge said sulkily and glared at Keith. “How did you even win.” 

 

“I’ll do anything to get out of the job,” Keith grinned, standing up to stretch. 

 

Pidge stayed silent for a while. “You can’t run away forever, you know?” 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Keith replied and walked out of the room. 

 

iii. 

 

“Take the fucking job, Keith.” Allura demanded from her seat behind the desk, brows furrowed and creased; clearly irritated. 

 

“No,” Keith snapped back, “I’m not taking the fucking job.”

 

“Whatever issue you have with the boss, solve it.” Allura scowled and threw her pen at Keith. 

 

Keith caught the pen and threw it back at Allura. “There’s no issue between me and the boss, _Boss._ ” 

 

“I’m your boss,” Allura scolded and signed another document from the stack on her desk, “therefore, you’ll take the fucking job.” 

 

“Nothing will make me take the fucking job,” Keith sneered and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. 

 

“Stop swearing,” Hunk said as he walked past the office room. 

 

iv. 

 

“Boss is visiting today,” Hunk said as he writes the words onto the whiteboard in their cafeteria. “Keith should take the job.” He adds innocently and starts whistling. 

 

Keith groaned and banged his head against the table. “Can’t one of you just do it. Apparently, the pay is awesome, and it’s not like he asked specifically for me.”

 

No one spoke for a while. The silence hung between them was tense and uncomfortable. 

 

“Well…” Coran started, and the silence continued. 

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Keith snarled as he realisation hit him. Hunk looked down at his hands in his lap with part guilt, part relief. 

 

v. 

 

“No, he didn’t specifically ask for you,” Shiro answered him from behind the mountain of paper. “Or rather, he specifically didn’t want you.” 

 

A vein popped on the side of Keith’s face. “What the fuck do you mean.” 

 

“Well,” Shiro mumbled, too focused on his paperwork, “he said he didn’t want to see your face.” 

 

“What the fuck?” Keith asked, loudly. “Then fucking why—”

 

“Language!” Hunk called out from the room beside Shiro’s office. 

 

vi. 

 

“Boss’ here.” Pidge explained as she threw open the door to the gym, “get your ass into something presentable,” she took one look at Keith’s sweaty and naked torso, “although, I’m sure he would like that as well.” She twirls her finger in the direction of Keith’s abs. 

 

“Shut up,” Keith said and wiped the sweat from his head with his shirt before pulling it on. 

 

Pidge stared at him for three seconds before heading out. “He likes suits.”

 

I know, Keith thought as he rummaged through his gym bag for his crumbled black suit. 

 

vii. 

 

“Hi guys,” Lance walked into Allura’s office and finger-gunned at Pidge. 

 

“Stop being lame,” Pidge finger-gunned back at him. Lance smiled and sat down in one of the couches. 

 

“So,” he starts, helping himself to the glass of amber liquid sitting on the table. “About my bodyguard for the trip to Italy…”

 

“Keith volunteered,” Pidge answered, nonchalantly. 

 

Lance’s face fell. “He did what?” 

 

viii. 

 

“You did what!?” Keith shouted as he stormed into Shiro’s office. 

 

Shiro looked up at the fuming bodyguard and blinked. “I didn’t do it. Pidge did.” 

 

“You should have stopped her.” Keith seethed, hands gripping the edges of Shiro’s desk. 

 

“I wasn’t there,” Shiro replied, calmly, which annoyed Keith, and went back to doing his paperwork. 

 

Keith groaned and fell back onto the black couch. “I want to shoot myself.”

 

Shiro stopped writing and stared at the boy lying on his couch, “you of all people shouldn’t say that.” 

 

Keith sighed. 

 

ix. 

 

“Why are you here?” Lance asked, not looking up from his phone as he sat cross legged on his seat. Keith ignored him. Lance didn’t probe any further; the two of them sat in silence in the airport. 

 

x. 

 

They get separate seats, even though both Shiro and Allura wanted them to sit together for Lance’s safety. 

 

Keith reluctantly glances at Lance every half an hour. It’s part of the job, Keith thought to himself, I need the money. 

 

xi. 

 

The fifth time Keith checked on Lance, he was truly frightened. The plane seat that Lance was sitting in was empty. 

 

“Shit,” Keith swore under his breathe, “fuck. Where is he?” 

 

He considered going to the pilot to make an announcement but decided against it since it would alert the enemy of his presence if Lance was indeed, abducted.

 

Abduction on a plane. Keith breathed in deep and exhaled calmly. Focus. He closed his eyes and concentrated on a plan to find Lance. 

 

The sound of the airplane toilet flushing startled Keith, he turned his head around to the source of the noise. Lance walked out of the toilet and squeezed past the line of people. 

 

Keith immediately stood up from his seat and strode towards Lance. “Tell me when you go to the bathroom next time.” 

 

Lance snorted. “Shouldn’t you just pay attention to see where I’m going?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Keith frowned, “I’m your bodyguard, not your—” He shut his mouth up instantly, and searched for Lance’s eyes but the boy had already returned to his seat. 

 

xii. 

 

The rest of the plane trip was quiet. Lance didn’t tell Keith when he was going to use the bathroom. 

 

Keith pretended it didn’t hurt. 

 

xiii. 

 

When they arrived in Rome, Lance checked them into their hotel. 

 

“Business is tomorrow. I’m going out for a bit, you have some free time,” he told Keith as Keith finished dragging their suitcases into the hotel room. 

 

Keith pulled his tie loose and shuffled off his shoes. “I’m coming with you.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Lance protested as he opened his luggage and grabbed a wallet. “Here,” he handed it to Keith, “fake ID and allowance, go enjoy your time.” 

 

Keith thought about it for a few minutes and hesitantly handed one of his smaller hand guns to Lance. “Do you know how to shoot?” 

 

“Of course,” Lance muttered, eyes boring holes into the weapon in his hands. “Come and find me if I don’t return after ten.” He placed the gun on his hip and hid it with his jacket with familiarity. Keith swallowed the guilt bubbling in his throat. 

 

“Okay,” Keith replied and watched Lance walk out. 

 

xiv. 

 

It was eight. Lance has been out for almost seven hours. 

 

Keith stared distractedly at the television screen, not understanding a single word the news reporter was saying. Being worried was an understatement. 

 

He took another bite from his sandwich, not exactly hungry with the amount of paranoia swimming in his stomach. Memories from before slowly made themselves known, Keith threw his sandwich into the bin. 

 

History wasn’t going to repeat itself. 

 

Grabbing his suit jacket from the back of one of the chairs, Keith double checked his firearms and headed out. 

 

xv. 

 

Keith didn’t think they would use silencers when technically it was Keith and Lance on their territory. The glass of one the wall covering windows shattered and Keith was thrown backwards from the impact. So much for the grand hotel room with huge ass windows which Keith assumed Lance paid for because it had _bulletproof glass_. 

 

Shit, he cursed himself for being careless, _Lance_. 

 

He ran behind the kitchen counter and clicked the safety of his pistol off. He could hear the broken glass being kicked around, judging by the footsteps, there were two intruders. 

 

Idiots, Keith thought. Raising his gun, he fired twice. There were two thuds, confirming the death of two assailants. Keith couldn’t waste any time here.

 

Lance needed him. 

 

xvi.

 

“Pick up,” Keith hissed at his phone. “Dammit!” 

 

xvii. 

 

“I need backup,” Keith barked into his phone as he ran down the streets. “ _Now._ ” A shot flew past him and he dodged into a jewellery shop. 

 

“Even if we take the private jet, it’s going to be at least five hours,” Shiro explained and Keith could hear the clinking of metal against metal in the background. He jumped behind a necklace display cabinet and shushed the panicking sales woman. 

 

‘Pretend I’m not here’ Keith mouthed at the woman, praying to every deity he knew that she understood English. He shoved his phone into his pocket and took out his gun — that seemed to shut the lady up. 

 

The bell indicating the door opening chimed loudly, Keith inhaled silently. 

 

“Uscire!” Someone shouted and Keith held his breath, listening carefully. There was some dialogue and then silence. Keith looked up at the saleswoman, who was shaking her head rapidly. He waited until their eyes met and point upwards with his index finger, the woman nodded slightly. Keith sighed and raised his hands, swiftly placing the rifle he had taken off one of the intruders earlier upside down onto the surface of the glass cabinet and fired. 

 

There was a loud scream, and Keith jumped up onto the cabinet and fired twice more, the assailants fell to the floor. Keith jumped down and ran outside, fishing his phone out from his pocket, he pressed it against his ear. 

 

“I’ve assumed you’ve located Lance’s phone,” he huffed and threw the empty rifle into a nearby garbage can.

 

“We have. Allura’s going to be your handler, Coran is staying with her, the rest of us are heading over,” there’s a bit of ruffling and Allura’s voice greeted Keith. 

 

“We can’t assume they’re dumb enough to allow Lance to keep his phone, they probably threw it somewhere,” Allura said. 

 

“Yes, I know that. I couldn’t get through to him earlier,” Keith snapped. “Did you track the gps I planted on Lance earlier?”

 

“Yes, Pidge did.” Allura answered, “here are your instructions.” 

 

xviii.

 

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” Keith swore under his breath as he jumped onto the hood of the car with agile movements that Lance held captive. He shot once at the glass twice with perfected precision, aiming for the guy in the passenger seat’s head. The glass shattered and the guy dropped dead before he could even lift his gun to shoot Keith. 

 

“Hey!” The driver shouted as Keith hopped into the car, kneeing the dead guy’s face in the process. He points the barrel of the gun at Keith, but Keith reacted faster; assassin’s instincts kicking in, grabbing the handle and swinging his leg forward. The gun was knocked out of the driver’s hand just as he fires, the bullet going through the thigh of the dead guy in the passenger seat. 

 

The driver cursed in Italian and swiveled the car, crashing the right side of the car into a building. 

 

“Fuck—” Keith gasped as he his footing. His head made impact with the edge of something hard. The driver slammed open the car door and Keith hears a muffled scream. 

 

“No—” he tried to get up again, but the pounding in his head is too much and his falls back down. 

 

Keith’s vision was blurring, there was warm liquid dripping from the back of his head. “Wait, Lance—” 

 

Everything turned black. 

 

xix.

 

When Keith woke up, he was in the hospital. 

 

“The fuck?” He brought a hand up to his head, feeling the layers of bandages wrapped around it. Concussion, his brain supplied. Keith ran through his hands through his jacket and pants; no sign of his gun. He checked the table next to the bed; no gun. 

 

“Motherfucking—” he stopped himself and sighed. What could he do? How long has he been out for? Was Lance even alive? Fear and anger rushed through Keith, he climbed off the bed. Walking over to the window, Keith punched and breaks the glass, peering down.

 

Two floors. 

 

Keith jumped. 

 

xx.

 

“I don’t have a phone or weapons, I lost Lance, too,” Keith said hurriedly into the public phone. 

 

“We’ve got firearms.” Shiro reassured. “And grenades. No one hurts our boss.” 

 

“How are we supposed locate him?” Keith demanded. 

 

“Lance still has his gps on him, and it looks like they’ve stopped moving — they’re probably waiting to be picked up,” Shiro responded. “How long were you out for?” 

 

“Couple of hours.” Keith murmured. “Shit, I fucked up, again.” 

 

“Shush,” Shiro scolded him, “Look, if they haven’t been moving for like an hour and it has been hours since you busted their car, then that’s probably their base or where ever they wanted to take Lance — don’t you fucking dare, Keith. You wait for us. I don’t care if you’re a trained assassin or not, we’ll be there soon.” 

 

“Where. Is. Lance?”

 

“Keith, no.” 

 

“Shiro. I swear to god, even if it’s you. I don’t care, if you get in the way of me finding Lance, I will fucking kill you.” Keith snarled. There’s a few seconds of hesitant silence before Shiro reluctantly gives Keith the address. 

 

“Promise me you two will hold out until we get there.” Shiro whispered over the phone.

 

“I guarantee Lance’s safety,” Keith replied and hung up, speaking none about his own. 

 

xxi. 

 

Keith took out a small group of armed men as soon as he stepped into the base, only sustaining small wounds. He grabbed a few pistols and rifles and as much ammo as he could. 

 

“Where is the man you kidnapped?” Keith sneered as he drove a knife into a man’s stomach. “Where is he?” He held the man up by the collar and pointed a gun at his head. 

 

“I don’t — don’t know,” the man coughed in broken English and gagged as Keith’s grip tightened.

 

“Tell me!” He screamed and shot an approaching guy between the eyes without flinching or even looking. The man in front of him collapsed in fear when Keith’s hands loosened, visibly shaking in terror. Keith took an intimidating step forward and condescendingly glared down at the quivering man. 

 

“Where is he?” He aimed the pistol between the man’s eyes as well. 

 

Bang. 

 

xxii. 

 

As Keith walked into the office, a sinister, middle aged man advanced towards him. Keith immediately raised both guns so they’re both aiming for the man’s head. “Don’t take another fucking step.”

 

“Woah,” the man spoke in fluent English, “calm down. My name is Sendak.” 

 

“Where the fuck is Lance?” Keith asked, not moving his arms an inch, fingers steady, ready to kill. 

 

Sendak shrugged casually, not caring, “why don’t you sit down so we can talk about it?” 

 

“Kill yourself.” Keith snapped and pulled the trigger. 

 

Something hits the back of his head, exactly the spot he had injured earlier. Pain shot through his entire body, and he nearly collapsed again. 

 

“You fucker…” Keith stumbled forward and steadied himself, trying to ignore the agony and the blood clouding his vision. 

 

“Well, I hope you’ve learnt your lesson.” Sendak brought Keith’s face down against his knee with enough force to break his nose. The guns clattered onto the floor as Keith fell onto his knees and coughed up a mouthful of blood as the same liquid spurted from his nose. 

 

“Keith!” He heard Lance shout his name. “Let me go! I’m going to fucking kill you cunts!” 

 

Sendak motioned for the guard to let go off Lance. The guard roughly pushed Lance forward with the tip of his pistol, Lance rushed forward until he kneeled down next to the barely conscious man. 

 

“What did you do to him.” Lance demanded as he cradled Keith’s head against his chest. The fabric of his clothing soaking up the endless blood. 

 

“He messed with the wrong people.” Sendak spat at Lance. Lance glared back viciously without a single motion of doubt. 

 

Keith forced his eyes open to take one good at Lance — it might be the last he would see the beautiful and captivating face. But what Keith saw only fueled his anger even more; there was a cut right below Lance’s left eye that was still bleeding — did they try to fucking blind him? — and there was a horrendous purple bruise forming at the corner of his lips; judging from the way Lance supported all of his and Keith’s weight on his left side, Keith figured that they had probably broken Lance’s right ankle so he couldn’t escape even if he had the chance. 

 

“ _Bastards._ ” He growled at Sendak. “Go to fucking hell.” Raising his right hand, Keith made sure Sendak understood his protruding middle finger loud and clear. 

 

xxiii. 

 

“Let’s talk business now,” Sendak said cheerfully and sipped from his whiskey glass as Lance sat with Keith on the couch opposite him.

 

“There’s no business to talk about,” Lance responded in a sharp tone. “You injured my men.” 

 

“There’s always business to talk about.” Sendak smirked and stood up, walking around coffee table until he towered over Lance. 

 

Lance snorted and looked at the man straight in the eyes. “Not when you’re a fugly old shit.” 

 

Sendak let a sound of irritation before ditching the glass of whiskey in his hand at Lance’s face. The glass hit Lance’s temple hard, shattering and spilling the alcoholic liquid as it landed on the floor. Keith instantly took out the spare gun from his back pocket. 

 

“Don’t shoot!” Lance shouted, startling but successfully stopping Keith. Keith growled in protest as he watched blood continuously drip down Lance’s face from the fresh wound. He cursed at his incompetence and inability to protect Lance. 

 

Sendak laughed, brutally grabbing and tilting Lance’s chin until their eyes met. “You bitch!” He turned to Keith, snatching the gun from his hand and tossing it aside, “look, even your boss knows better than to mess with me!” His loud laughter filled the silence. Keith could only grit his teeth.

 

Lance looked up at Sendak through his eyelashes, eyes glinting red with murderous intent — daunting enough to send a shiver down Sendak’s spine. “I thought you wanted to talk about business.” 

 

xxiv. 

 

There was a small, almost silent sound of glass being pierced. Suddenly, Sendak fell onto his knees, eyes widened and mouth agape. His shocked eyes followed Lance’s blood thirsty and smiling ones until he fell onto his chest, fear racing through him — this was the true cruelty and inhumanity of Lance? — his thoughts stopped, all life was drained from him, his last moments truly traumatising. Lance stood up and limped over the broken glass to where Zarkon had tossed the gun, crimson red liquid leaving an obvious trail.

 

He shot Sendak twice in the head without blinking and dropped the gun. “Welp, that wasn’t as satisfying as I hoped it was.” He ran a hand through his blood soaked hair and stared at Keith. “What? Do you want to shoot him, too? Here.” Lance bent over to pick up the gun and promptly fainted. 

 

xxv. 

 

“I told you not to go on your own!” Shiro lectured Keith as the doctor re-bandaged his head, “thank fuck, it’s not an extremely serious case of concussion.” The doctor side glanced at Shiro for his language choice and Shiro quickly offered an awkward smile. “Do you even know what could have happened if we didn’t turn up at the time we did?” He continued on. 

 

Keith ignored Shiro and turned to face Hunk who had just finished checking on Lance as the doctor worked on the cut on his wrist. “How is he?” 

 

“Unconscious, but stable,” Hunk answered. Keith breathed in a deep breath, feeling the relief flood his entire body. “Pidge is with him.” 

 

Keith reminded himself to congratulate Pidge on the beautiful sniper shot. 

 

xxvi. 

 

It took a couple weeks of pure rest for Keith to recover completely. Their team decided to throw a welcome back party for him, but Keith couldn’t concentrate. His eyes searched around the room. “Where’s…?” 

 

The cheering abruptly paused. “Well,” Pidge started, “I’m sure he had other things to do.” 

 

“Yeah,” Hunk flailed his arms around, “I mean, he was out for almost a month, he’s got a lot of work to catch up on and stuff—”

 

Keith sighed and interrupted the babbling, “it’s okay. If I were myself, I wouldn’t want to be around me as well.” 

 

“That’s not true,” Shiro frowned. 

 

Keith chuckled bitterly, “not true? He’s hurt because I’m so shit at my job! This time and last time too. Every time he’s hurt, it’s my fault. I don’t blame him for wanting to stay away from me — all I do is bring him disaster. How many more times does he need to suffer because of me?” 

 

The heavy silence hung between them; no one knowing what to say. 

 

Keith’s throat tightened and he felt like throwing up until he was truly empty inside. This was supposed to be his welcome back party. 

 

“I’m leaving.” 

 

xxvii. 

 

“For your job and profession, you’re such an idiot.” 

 

Keith glared at the man standing on the opposite side of the doorframe. “Why are you here?” He bit out in annoyance. 

 

“Oh?” Lance grinned, “is this how you treat your boss?” 

 

“Shiro’s my boss,” Keith retorted. 

 

Lance pouted. “Last time I checked, I’m still Shiro’s boss.”

 

“Alright. What do you want,” Keith sighed. 

 

“At least invite me inside,” Lance suggested. Keith sighed again.

 

xxviii. 

 

“So? Why did you come here?” Keith asked again as he set a glass of warm tea in front of Lance. Lance ignored him and sipped at his tea. Keith waited until he set his glass down again. 

 

“Shiro told me.” He started. 

 

Keith blinked, “told you what?”

 

Lance stared down at his hand and fiddled with his fingers, “that you blame yourself when I get injured.”

 

There was pause. 

 

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Keith finally said. 

 

Lance’s stare became more intense and he clenched his fist, “it’s not true!” 

 

xxix.

 

“What?” Keith stared back at Lance in shock. It only lasted for a couple of seconds before all the emotions he had pushed back surged forward. “Then why! Why did you avoid me! Why did you stop talking to me! Why did you say you didn’t want to see me! Why did you leave me!” He shouted in one breath, panting as he finished. 

 

“You,” Lance muttered, “always get hurt with you’re with me.”

 

“That doesn’t explain anything!” Keith seethed. 

 

Lance gulped, “Keith, I love you.” 

 

Keith’s eyes widened, his brain over functioning itself to comprehend what Lance had just said. “What? What the fuck? How can you just say that? _Get the fuck out of my house_!” Thoughts and emotions jumped all over the place, everything was a jumbled mess. Lance? Loving him?

 

Keith was confused. 

 

xxx.

 

Keith turned up at work looking worse the following morning, having barely slept at all the night before. 

 

“What happened to you?” Coran asked as Keith downed a cup of scalding hot coffee without even flinching. 

 

“Nothing,” he said. 

 

Coran glanced at him again, “you really should go talk to Lance. You kids got along so well before.” 

 

“I did.” Keith groaned and left before Coran could make any other comment about the past. 

 

xxxi. 

 

“Keith Kogane.” Hunk barged into the working area and stood in front of Keith’s puny cubicle. “What in the world did you say to Lance.” 

 

“Nothing?” Keith looked up and pulled out his headphones, eyebrows creasing, “he’s the one who was spewing shit.” 

 

“You’re an asshole.” Hunk glared at him, obvious rage behind his eyes. 

 

Keith spluttered in protest, “I’m a what? What the fuck, Hunk, you can’t just go around saying that.”

 

“A man just confessed to the person he loves and he was told to get the fuck out!” Hunk shouted, gaining attention of everyone around, which was no one. 

 

“He was joking! He was messing with my feelings because I fucking failed my job!” Keith shouted back in denial, fuming. 

 

“Why are you so dense!” Hunk exclaimed in frustration. “How the heck do you not see how much Lance loves you. He doesn’t want to be near you because he doesn’t want to see you hurt!” 

 

“W— what?” Keith looked at Hunk in surprise and bewilderment, “he — what?” 

 

Hunk sighed. “He didn’t want to be around you after you got shot last time because he rushed into things and he blames himself for it. And this time, you almost died again because he wanted to be alone in Rome. Don’t you see that he clearly avoids you because he believes that when you’re with him, you’ll be in constant lethal danger?” 

 

“But last time wasn’t even his fault, if I hadn’t failed as a bodyguard, he wouldn’t have nearly died!” Keith objected. “And this time as well, I should have insisted to go with him. It’s my job!”

 

“It’s the same for him!” Hunk argued back, “he thinks that if he hadn’t been provoked and rushed with the deal, you wouldn’t have been shot and injured. Same with this time, if he hadn’t demanded to go alone, you wouldn’t have been a car accident and beaten half to death. He’s avoiding you to keep you safe, you idiot. He’s so in love with you that he can’t even stand the thought, let alone actually seeing you in pain!”

 

“Fuck.” Keith exhaled, running both hands through his hair. “But I told him to leave…” 

 

“Yes, so to him,” Hunk explained, “it meant that you were blaming everything on him and didn’t love him because of it. That’s why you’re a fucking asshole, Keith.” 

 

Keith bit his bottom lip. 

 

“You should go apologise,” Hunk suggested and left him alone. 

 

xxxii. 

 

“You’re right. I am an idiot for my profession.” Keith said as the door opened. 

 

Lance glared at him through puffy, red eyes. “Why the fuck are you here? Haven’t you had enough.” Keith winced as guilt and regret gripped his heart. 

 

He looked at Lance in the eyes. “Lance, I’m sorry.” 

 

“For what?” Lance shrugged, “For shouting at me to get out or breaking my heart?” 

 

“Both,” Keith swallowed. 

 

Lance sighed. “I’m not mad. I understand it’s my fault —”

 

“It’s not,” Keith protested in vain. 

 

“— you shouldn’t blame yourself. You were just taking my orders, you were doing your job. I’m just a horrible boss who isn’t capable enough for his own job. I can’t even protect my employees,” he gave Keith a sad smile. “I apologise if you’re disgusted by the confession, I understand why you would be. I hope you don’t quit your job because of it, though I doubt I’m that significant.” 

 

“Am I too late?” Keith asked, voice quiet.

 

Lance didn’t look at him.

 

xxxiii. 

 

“Keith,” Allura addressed from behind her desk, “you can’t keep avoiding your boss.”

 

Keith looked up from the couch. “My boss is Shiro.” 

 

Allura stared at him for a while, Keith twitched. “You’re right. Lance is more than just your boss.”

 

Keith snorted. 

 

xxxiv. 

 

“You need to take the job.” Pidge insisted, “none of us are free that day.” 

 

Keith glared at her, silently wishing for her to shut up.

 

“It’s been six months,” Pidge continued, ignoring Keith’s glare. “It’s been six months since you’ve last talked to Lance for all we know.”

 

Six months, two weeks and five days, Keith wanted to correct.

 

“He doesn’t need me,” Keith sighed instead, placing the game console down next to his feet before standing up, “he’s safer off without me, anyways.” 

 

Pidge glanced at him, abandoning their game of Mario Kart as well. “I know you know that’s not true.”

 

xxxv.

 

“I said I didn’t want to see your face,” Lance said as soon as Keith walked into his office. 

 

Keith paused, letting the doors behind him swing shut. He ran a hand through his hair and huffed. “You have no choice. Others already have plans.” 

 

Lance groaned loudly.

 

xxxvi.

 

“Why are we sitting together?” Lance asked, facing the window as Keith plopped down into the seat next to his. 

 

Keith crossed one leg over the other. “Allura.”

 

xxxvii.

 

“I’ve told you to tell me when you’re going somewhere before!” Keith hissed as he hit another guy in the back of the neck with the hilt of his pistol. “My silencer is in the luggage, I can’t even fire!” 

 

“I was going to the fucking toilet!” Lance hissed back from behind Keith. “Who the fuck ambushes others in the fucking bathroom on a fucking plane?” 

 

“These guys apparently!” Keith snapped. He grabbed the last guy with one hand around his neck and conked his own head against his with brute strength. The guy fell onto the heap of bodies, unconscious. Keith put his gun back into the inside pocket of his jacket, “what do we do with these?” He nodded his head the in the direction of the people who tried to ambush Lance. 

 

Lance glanced at the bodies and then back at Keith. He reached out and took the gun from Keith’s jacket, surprising the bodyguard with the sudden action, “I’ll go talk to the crew.” 

 

xxxviii.

 

“What did they say?” Keith gave Lance a quick checkover as soon as the man came back, noticing a drop of blood on his cheek. “You shot someone?” 

 

“Right in the head,” Lance snickered and pointed at the exact middle of his forehead, “he tried to restrain me.” 

 

“Did they hurt you?” Keith asked with a nonchalant tone, hiding his concern well. 

 

Lance laughed slightly louder. “They’d be dead if they did.” 

 

But his filthy blood still touched you, Keith thought, disgust and hostility burning through his body, how fucking dare he.

 

xxxix.

 

“Here,” Keith handed Lance something as they went back to their seats when the flight attendant announced that they were landing. 

 

Lance looked at the object in his hand with curiosity and then smirked. “Why, Keith. Even though you’re so good at your job.” 

 

“Precaution,” Keith explained, “I want to kill.” 

 

Lance smirked. 

 

xl.

 

“Now then,” Lance stood in the middle of a never-ending bloodbath, sinister smile gracing his perfect lips. “Who was it that wanted business with me, then ambushed me on the plane?” 

 

“Was it you?” He tilted his head back, glancing at a man who was pointing his gun at Lance with shaking hands. “Or was it you?” Lance pointed at another man. Keith felt revulsion pulse heavily through his veins. 

 

How fucking dare he—how fucking dare he— _how fucking dare he_ — 

 

“Shoot.” Lance commanded. 

 

Keith obliged. 

 

xli.

 

“You’re a brave one, aren’t you?” Lance purred as a determined mafia member rushed forward and pulled Lance into a headlock, roughly knocking the side of Lance’s head with the barrel of his pistol. 

 

“ _Shut up_!” The man screamed, agitated by Lance’s carefree attitude despite being held at gunpoint, although fear shook through his entire being, “I’ll fucking shoot you!” 

 

“Oh no,” Lance feigned a shocked gasp, mocking the man, “you shouldn’t have said that.” He frowned and pouted, raising both of his arms in defeat as the man drove the gun into the side of Lance’s head even more. 

 

Keith growled, pointing his pistol in their direction and fired, aiming dead straight at Lance’s heart. 

 

Keith had never missed a shot in his life. 

 

xlii.

 

The bullet pierced his heart.

 

Lance fell, eyes widened in disbelief. The man who held him screamed, and tried to get away, letting his guard down. Keith shot again, this time, the bullet successfully went through the back of the man’s head. He made quick use of the surprise instilled in the other standing men and finished them off swiftly. 

 

Keith wiped the blood splattered on his face with the back of his hand and wrinkled his nose in absolute disgust. He stared at Lance, eyes reflecting no light. 

 

Lance groaned and slowly stood up, unbuttoning his expensive dress shirt. He fished out the metal plate that was strapped to his chest, holding it up to his eye level. “That really hurt,” he complained as he inspected the dent in the metal.

 

“Sorry,” Keith offered and walked towards Lance. 

 

Lance smiled at him. “Let’s go home.” 

 

xliii. 

 

The plane trip back was silent. No one ambushed. No one attacked. 

 

Keith followed Lance back to their office building after they landed. Perhaps it was worry. Perhaps it was something else. 

 

“Let me take you home,” Keith requested as Lance prepared to leave his office.

 

Lance looked at him for a few seconds then agreed. “Okay.”

 

xliv. 

 

“You’re wrong,” Keith said as he stepped into Lance’s house and shut the door behind him. “I’m not disgusted by you. I’m disgusted by myself. You get hurt every time when it’s me who’s assigned to you. The other guys are so much better, so much more talented and qualified than me. They protect you. I only seem to hurt you, even though my job is to make sure you’re not hurt, I still fail to do so. Plus, it’s not your job to protect me, it’s my job to defend you. That’s the reason why you hired me, isn’t it?” He offered Lance a smile of sincerity and gratitude.

 

“Lance, I love you too.”

 

xlv. 

 

“Pot, kettle. Kettle, pot, I guess.” Lance chuckled and wrapped his arms around Keith neck. Keith slid one arm around Lance’s waist and the other hand cradled his cheek. “Can I kiss you?” Lance asked, in a whisper. 

“Yeah,” Keith said and joined their lips together. 

 

xlvi.

 

“By the way, when did you learn to shoot so accurately?” Keith asked after they finished dinner and was lazing around on Lance’s couch together. 

 

“I asked Hunk to teach me after you got shot,” Lance recalled, “I figured I should probably be able to defend myself to a certain extent rather than relying completely on you guys.”

 

“But you shot the guy in such cold-blood,” Keith said.

 

“Are you saying I’m heartless? Lance glanced at Keith. 

 

Keith shifted a little, “no, it was kind of…” his thoughts and words drift off.

 

“Mhm,” Lance hummed and pressed a soft kiss to Keith’s chin. 

 

xlvii.

 

“What was being assassin like?” Lance asked later during the night. 

 

“Pretty shit,” Keith replied groggily, half asleep. “I killed people for money, but I was a child assassin, so I got easier jobs, or rather I was just an accomplice. I distracted the target, more experienced guys took them out.”

 

“You’re really open about this stuff,” Lance said, “I thought you’d be more closed off about your past.”

 

Keith inhaled and exhaled. “Well, you’ve seen me shoot shitfucks and I’ve seen you shoot shitfucks. There’s basically nothing to hide anymore.”

 

xlviii. 

 

“Keith?” Lance laid awake under the duvet. “Are you awake?”

 

“No,” Keith muttered sleepily, “go to sleep, Lance.”

 

“Did you know that hippo sweat is red?” 

 

“What the fuck? Lance, you need sleep.” Keith mumbled and turned over. 

 

“Did you know flamingo milk is pink?” Lance questioned again. Followed by, “do you think emus ever mistake an ostrich for a fellow emu sometimes?” 

 

Keith tried his best to hold in his homicidal rage and burning hatred for human interaction. 

 

xlix.

 

“I never raised you to be this affectionate in public!” Shiro screeched after witnessing Lance kissing Keith before he left for his office the next morning. “You were a shy kid!”

 

Keith snorted, “I’m just _shy_ of making out with Lance in your kitchen to spite you.”

 

Hunk gasped. “Did Keith just make a pun?” 

 

“Lance is literally rubbing off on him,” Pidge commented from behind a laptop.

 

Keith slapped a hand over his face. 

 

l. 

 

“You know,” Lance stared at the ring on his finger, “we were stupid kids.” 

 

“The whole pot kettle thing?” Keith shuffled into the sheets next to Lance. “We were, I suppose.” 

 

“You’re still stupid.” Lance pouted, jutting his lips out. 

 

Keith grinned, leaning over to give Lance a good night kiss on the lips, “you are too.” 

 

There’s a long pause of silence and Keith thought that Lance has fallen asleep. After another few minutes, just as Keith was going to enter dreamworld, Lance decided to speak.

 

“Did you know that flamingo egg yolks are pink, too?”

**Author's Note:**

> @ everyone who is confused by this; same


End file.
